


Identity

by Thistlewhistle



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen, Like the whole ending is spoiled, Philosophical Wankery, Self-Indulgent, Shadowbringers Spoilers, right out of the gate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2020-09-07 07:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20306053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlewhistle/pseuds/Thistlewhistle
Summary: After her return from the First, Eorzea quickly finds itself thrown into turmoil. Their champion missing, the Grand Company Leaders need to find a way to defend Eorzea from the coming Garlean onslaught without the aid of the Scions. Meanwhile, a humble farmer finds a strange young woman sleeping in his pumpkin patch. Shadowbringers Spoilers, by the by.





	1. Prologue

The Warrior of Light- or Darkness depending on who was asking- dropped her bag unceremoniously upon the floor as she entered her home. It was a small, cozy little place that she had purchased in the Lavender Beds. A quiet, beautiful place where she could hide out after a long day of saving the world. 

Few outside of the Scions knew where to find it, and the majority of the Scions were still trapped in the First. It was the perfect place to spend those scant few moments before the next crisis broke out. Somewhere to simply exist, not concerning herself with the next battle, what the various people of great import needed of her, or her many enemies' plots. For as long as she was in these four walls, she was just like anybody else. 

Extremely tired.

It had been a long harrowing day of apprising the various concerned parties of what happened on her journey over to the First- minus a few of the more troubling details- and being similarly brought up to speed on the progress being made on the Black Rose front. She couldn't count the number of times she had needed to recount her adventures. 

To Arenvald, who had been beside himself ever since they had brought Alphinaud's body home. To Hoary Boulder and Coultenet. To Tataru. The Grand Company leaders. Lyse and the Ala Mhigans. Hien and his newly formed alliance. Estinien for some reason.

It had been an exhausting day of talking, something she had never been overly fond of. She would rather fight all the Lightwardens and Hades again than have to talk about her adventure one more time. Perhaps she could ask one of the various people she had told to simply write it down, as Count Edmont had for the end of the Dragonsong War.

Now whenever anyone had questions about the time she had fought a bunch of dragons or Thordan and his Knights Twelve or the aftermath, she could simply say, "Count Edmont wrote a lovely book all about it. Feel free to read it if you have the time." It was proving to be so very helpful. 

The Warrior made a mental note to thank him again for that. Perhaps she could give him a gift of some sort? She had found an interesting tea in the Ul'dahn markets the last time she had visited. He might well enjoy something along those lines. She would have to remember to pick some up before her next journey to Ishgard.

As she walked towards her first, and only, objective she began to strip away the various pieces of armor and clothing that she had been stewing in all afternoon. She left a trail of discarded clothing and weapons leading to the bath, where she would simply soak. She had no plan as to how long. Simply until she felt she was finished. Then it would be on to a meal and perhaps bed.

She had stripped down to her smallclothes by the time she reached the bath. Drawing the water, she waited for the tub to fill. Noise and steam began to fill the room as she waited, staring idly at the rising water.

Her thoughts wandered to Amaurot. The things she had seen there, but more importantly, the memories she had found there. Memories that were hers, but didn't belong to her. Walking down those almost familiar streets, speaking to dear friends that she had never met. Ardbert had felt the same way. 

It was to be expected. They were two shards of the same soul, or some such.

What did that even mean? The Warrior wished that she knew. She understood it, conceptually. The world wasn't the only thing that had been shattered when Hydalen defeated Zodiark. The people, those who remained after the countless sacrifices to Zodiark anyway, had been shattered along with it. Scattered across ten and four worlds. But knowing what happened didn't make her understand any better.

She sighed, shutting off the water and lowering herself into the steaming tub. The water was a touch too warm, but it would cool. The Warrior planned to spend a long time in the tub, somewhere where nobody would dare bother her.

Long baths had always served to help the Warrior think, and there was yet much thinking to be done. Ever since she had faced Emet-Selch, or Hades as he called himself during their battle, she had felt different. Changed. People who could see it, like Ryne or Y'shtola, had commented on how different her aether looked now. Even Tataru had noticed, although the Warrior wasn't sure how. As far as she knew, Tataru didn't have special magical sight like the others. 

What, exactly, had happened to her back there? How had Ardbert helped reverse the damage the Light had done to her? She didn't understand it. The only people who might have been able to explain it were trapped in another world. While she could just pop over to visit whensoever she chose, they were all rather busy with their own quests. The Warrior couldn't bear the thought of tearing them away from their own business for something so trivial as her own peace of mind.

Y'shtola had become something of a leader in the Night's Blessed, and Thancred was a father now. The twins... Well, they and Urianger had probably found something to keep them occupied. Nordvant might be free from the Light, but that had been the easy part. Now they had to set to work learning how to live in a world that was no longer doomed. Rebuilding what they could and starting anew where they couldn't. 

As much as she hated to admit it, the Warrior was nigh useless when it came to such things. She had tried her hand at the various crafting guilds around Eorzea, certainly. Some she had even become a little skilled at. But helping gather supplies and building structures was one thing. 

Healing the broken world was quite another. It was the sort of task best left to people who were suited for that sort of thing. Leaders and thinkers, like Alphinaud and the others.

Which left figuring out what had happened to her and her alone. Ardbert was a part of her now, that much was certain. How much of her was Ardbert was and how much of her was herself remained unclear. She hadn't picked up any of his mannerisms. Not his manner of speech, nor his disposition. Although she had come to learn over their journey together that they hadn't been so different. When he wasn't trying to kill her and destroy the world. 

But then, they had only been rejoined for a short time. Just because she hadn't noticed her behavior changing didn't necessarily mean that it hadn't. Tataru had noticed a difference right away. Perhaps she would be wise to enlist her help in this? Tataru keeping an eye on her would put her mind at ease, if nothing else. 

But the receptionist was so busy. It didn't feel right to burden her with something like this on top of all of her other duties. Whatever was happening with the Warrior, it was something that she should sort out herself. It didn't seem to be hurting her in any way, but then, the Light hadn't seemed to be hurting her at first either.

What would Ardbert say if he were with her? It had only been for a short time, but she had grown accustomed to his presence. To him offering guidance or simply companionship when she found herself alone. Despite their admittedly rocky start, he had become a trusted friend.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to feel a trace of him anywhere within herself. It was as if he was simply gone. Did he die when they rejoined? Well, she supposed that he had been long dead before they had ever met. What happened to his consciousness after they had rejoined? Was it gone? Did it lie dormant within her still? Would he appear once more if she needed him?

If he really had perished, at least he had done so with a smile on his face. Perhaps he was just glad to be free of his century long journey. He had more than earned the rest. Perhaps he had even been able to rejoin with his friends. The other Warriors of Light from the First. 

Hot unbidden tears stung her eyes. What would Ardbert say if he knew she were crying over him? He would probably make fun of her. She laughed bitterly and wiped the tears away. He wasn't gone. The dead never truly were, so long as those who survived could remember them. Ardbert had been left to bear witness to Minfilia and his friends' sacrifices, and she in turn had been left to bear witness to his own. She would carry on. For the both of them.

Having found her resolve once more, the Warrior pulled herself out of the tub. There was still much for her to do. She needed to put dinner on, and then she had a full evening of lounging to look forward to. Perhaps, if she was feeling especially ambitious, she would even take a nap.

She dried herself and made her way to her bedroom where she changed into a long white men's shirt that had ended up in her possession at one point or another. She couldn't be certain, but she believed that it had once belonged to Thancred. Well, whoever the owner was, he didn't seem to be missing it overmuch. It was comfortable, and now it was hers.

As she passed through the hall, the Warrior looked idly at the trail of discarded clothing and armor she had left in her wake. She offered it a dispassionate shrug. That would be a problem for tomorrow's her to deal with. Today's her was more concerned with what sort of dinner she should make.

As content as she felt in that moment, she knew that Fate had other plans for her. She could feel it on the wind. The inky black sensation of something coming to interrupt her peaceful evening alone.

"Who's there?" she demanded.

"You killed Emet-Selch." The voice responded. Purple swirling aether spiraled before her, producing a white-clad ascian. The last of the Unsundered.

He was different from the last time she had seen him. He wasn't pretending to be Lord Zenos, for one thing. Had he molded Zenos's body to his own liking the way Emet-Selch had, or had he simply abandoned that corpse and moved on to another? 

Whichever it was, the Ascian didn't seem to be doing well. His hood was down, white hair wild and unkempt. The Warrior was certain that under his mask he had circles under his bloodshot eyes. His clawed fingers flexed, as if trying to decide if he wanted to form a fist or not. From the way his limbs shook, it seemed more likely that he wanted to drive those claws into her flesh. It seemed that he hadn't come simply to talk.

"Hello to you too, Elidibus." the Warrior sighed. Of course she wasn't going to be allowed one evening to relax. She was foolish for even wishing it.

He raised his hand. A powerful force knocked her backwards into her table. The wooden legs gave out under her. Papers and knickknacks scattered in her wake. For now, the pain was minimal, but the Warrior knew that she would be nursing quite the bruise come the morrow. 

She grabbed for a knickknack that had landed near her hand, a small smooth stone that she had been using as a paperweight and hurled it at the intruder. Her enemy caught the stone idly, but it didn't matter. It had drawn his attention long enough for her to find her feet once more. 

The Warrior launched herself at the ascian. A flurry of blows rained down upon her enemy, but none seemed to meet their mark. Each repelled by that same invisible force. A smug smirk peeked out from beneath the ascian's mask. The Warrior of Light persisted, feeling the invisible wall cracking under her assault. 

With one final furious punch, the wall shattered and her fist sank into her enemy's jaw. Not content with landing but a single blow, she continued her assault. Striking every inch of him she could reach. He quickly melted back into an inky black portal. The Warrior stumbled from the momentum of her attacks, stopping only to locate her opponent.

Standing behind her, black lightning erupted from Elidibus's outstretched palm. The Warrior had thrown herself to the side just a heartbeat too late, pain blossoming from where she was struck. Her muscles spasmed from the crackling electricity as she lay upon the ground, trying to force her limbs to work once more through sheer force of will.

The warrior felt herself lifted off of the ground and turned to face her attacker. Her limbs held fast by some magic. She struggled against it valiantly, but to no avail. A flash of memory struck her. Lahabrhea had pulled a similar trick once upon a time.

"Now, if you've quite finished." Elidibus said, as if he wasn't the one who came to start a fight, "I have a few questions."

"You could have opened with that." the Warrior snarled. 

"First... your soul. How did you do it?" Elidibus ignored her.

How had she done what? Repaired the damage that the Light had done to her? She still wasn't entirely certain. Ardbert had sacrificed himself to help her, but the mechanics of it were beyond her. She was no aetherologist. 

"Stoic and silent as ever? Well, I suppose it doesn't truly matter." Elidibus waved his hand dismissively, "You cannot be suffered to live, and yet my every attempt to kill you has only served to make you stronger. Even as I have you at my mercy, fate itself seems to step in to rescue you. I must admit, I half expect that dragoon to come in here and snatch you away from me once more." 

Elidibus raked a clawed hand through his white hair. The Warrior realized that she had never seen him with his hood down before. 

had always seemed the most measured of the ascians, but it seemed that he also could be dramatic when he put his mind to it. He hadn't always been this way, some distant part of her recalled. A part so faint that she wasn't certain where the thought had come from. 

"So, what am I to do?"

"Stop trying to destroy the world?" the warrior suggested. If he did that, if the Ascians could simply stop, then maybe they could all live in peace. It was a fool's dream, she knew. They couldn't stop any more than the tempered beastmen she had seen could stop trying to summon their own gods. Zodiark demanded the Rejoinings, and his servants were helpless but to work towards that end.

"The solution, my old friend, is simple." Elidibus said. Some distant part of her stirred at his words. She had heard him say that phrase so many times. But she hadn't. Was it Ardbert who remembered, or somebody else? The one who had remembered the streets of Amaurot.

Elidibus continued, disregarding her silent musings as he spoke, "I simply need to put you somewhere that you can't do any more damage. Alive, unharmed, and harmless."

As he explained his nefarious plot to her, she watched him fiddle with something. Pouring strange dried herbs into a small bronze pot. Fine chains hung from the base. After he lit the herbs he had fit a small conical lid with ornate holes patterned into the side. Wispy white smoke snaked its way out of the holes. The Warrior watched equal parts baffled and curious. 

The scent of the herbs began to fill the room. A pungent mixture of sweet and acrid. The stench began to claw its way into her lungs. Into her thoughts. As terrible as it was, the Warrior found it strangely soothing. The circumstances suddenly didn't feel as dangerous as they once had. 

"Wha...?" the Warrior tried to form a question. Any question. Every attempt ended with the thought drifting away on the smoke.

A man stood before her. His disheveled hair as white as his robe. A troubling red mask covered his eyes while thick cloth covered his mouth and nose. She knew this man. She knew that she did. Didn't she? He held a strange smoking thing before her. A faint worry blossomed in her heart. Wasn't there something wrong here?

The man extended one clawed hand. 

"No! Get away!" she shouted. Reflexively, she tried to move away from him, but her body seemed to be bound. She twisted as far away as she could, but still he touched her cheek tenderly. 

"It will be alright." he promised, "Someday you'll be whole, and then you'll understand."


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tataru goes to check on her Warrior of Tardiness and finds her house empty and full of signs of a struggle. Meanwhile a farmhand finds a strange young woman asleep in his pumpkin patch.

In the Rising Stones, Tataru tapped her fingers impatiently upon her desk. The Warrior of Light had been due back bells ago. It wasn't unusual for her to lose track of time, especially not when she had been given time to relax by herself. Sometimes Tataru wondered if Aldreda even wanted to come back, or if they were forcing her into this life. 

Tataru had seen first hand how the losses she had suffered affected her. The Warrior certainly kept it under wraps for the most part, offering little more than a stoic nod. But Tataru had seen how she was when she believed herself to be alone. Fragile and trembling and often weeping. 

She had seen the tired, distant look in Aldreda's eyes. The empty stare when she realized that she was being asked to win yet another war. There couldn't be much harm in simply letting her have an extra day or two to sort herself out. Especially not after such a harrowing journey on the First. Tataru suspected that there were certain details of her adventure that the Warrior had left out of her report. Trying to keep her and the others from worrying, no doubt.

The great Warrior of Light would rather carry the entire star on her shoulders than inconvenience another living soul. But everybody had a weakness, and Tataru had a knack for finding them. The Warrior was no exception. If she truly wanted, Tataru didn't doubt that she could pry the information from the Warrior's tight lips. 

But that would require the Warrior to be present. Tataru attempted to hail her on the linkpearl once more.

Once more she received no response. It wasn't too strange, she reminded herself. Aldreda often took the linkpearl out. She always complained that it was uncomfortable to wear. When she was hiding away in her little cottage in Gridania she didn't want to be disturbed. The Scions knew the way to the cottage if something truly urgent came up.

The Warrior was scarcely two bells late. She could have simply overslept. She had seemed rather exhausted upon her return, and giving reports to just about every person in Eorzea no doubt had run through what little energy she had had in reserve. Tataru was being ridiculous.

It would be especially ridiculous to ask Hoary Boulder and Coultenet to accompany her all the way out to the Lavender Beds to check up on her. Which was why she absolutely was not standing up and walking across the Stones to find the Scions in question. 

"Excuse me, Hoary. Could I borrow you and Coultenet for a moment?" Tataru asked the boisterous roegadyn who had been attacking a training dummy with such vigor that Tataru wondered if it hadn't offended him in some way.

"Ah! Tataru. Need an escort for another one of your mining ventures?" Hoary Boulder asked, stowing the training blade. He was always so willing to help, it really was a godssend during these troubled times.

"Not exactly." she explained, "Aldreda hasn't arrived yet, and I fear I'm beginning to worry."

"You needn't fret." Coultenet broke in with an indulgent smile, "You know as well as the rest of us how scattered she can be. I'm certain that she simply took on a few small jobs and lost track of time."

"You may be right, but I would like to check on her even so." 

"Come, Coultenet. The exercise will do us good." Hoary grinned at him with intensity.

"As you say." Coultenet had no choice but to acquiesce, "If nothing else, we could enjoy the stroll."

"Then it's settled! Let's go give our friend a wake up call!" Tataru cheered. The Savior of Eorzea could be such a lazybones. If she wouldn't come to them, then they had no choice but to go to her.

They all knew the way. A short teleport to Gridania, a brisk- brisker for some than others- walk to the Sweetbloom peer, and a ferry ride over to the housing district. Tataru wasn’t certain if the Warrior had invited her companions to her little hideaway, but such concerns could wait until after they found her snoozing in her bed. Hoary tried to make conversation on the way over, but Tataru found that she was in no mood for small talk. After everything was over, she would simply have to give her friend a proper scolding for all the trouble that she had caused. 

They reached a small cottage on the outskirts of the district. From the outside it was difficult to tell that anyone lived inside, much less the dignified champion of the realm. It would be disingenuous to even call it modestly decorated. The exterior paint was faded and chipped in some places. Rather, there were no decorations of any sort. Not even a garden, unless one counted the lawn that had appeared to never once seen the business end of a pair of trimmers. A tangled mass of plants and grasses that snaked most of the way up Tataru’s legs. 

“I must needs hire her a gardener.” She grumbled. If she was able to make the home look even a little bit livable, the expense would be well worth it. 

"Aldreda?" Tataru called as they approached the warrior's door. She waited for a moment, not hearing any motion in the house. Tataru felt a chill run down her spine. She was being ridiculous. Everything was fine. The warrior was just asleep, or had perhaps run out to do some errands. Or had even gone on ahead to the Stones, and they had just missed each other on their journey. 

Everything was fine.

Tataru pulled the key from her pocket, a slight tremor in her hands causing her to miss the keyhole initially, accidentally bumping it into the door. The door swung slightly open from the impact. 

"I think you should wait out here while we check it out." Hoary Boulder said, his usually jovial expression replaced by a harsh stare. Tataru nodded. If something truly had happened, then she would only get in the way. The two scions walked into the darkened home, hands on their weapons as they walked. After what felt like an eternity, they called for Tataru.

Slowly, she crept inside the place. The clothes and armor scattered about was hardly a surprise. Nor was the scattered mess of books and papers that were laying around the sitting room, the cushions of the large couch pushed haplessly to the floor. Tataru tried not to click her tongue at the thin layer of dust that she noticed covering the lesser-used surfaces. 

Their warrior friend had many good points, but nobody could accuse her of being overly neat. 

"It looks like there was some kind of struggle." Coultenet reported, gesturing to a room further inside. The small table in the kitchen had been all but shattered, the legs splintered underneath the cracked surface. There was a shallow puddle of some dark rusty-colored substance. Tataru tried very hard not to think about what it might have been. 

"But who would do something like this?" she asked, and more importantly, where was Aldreda? 

Tataru couldn't imagine any person coming in and defeating her in a fight. Aldreda had slain gods and dragons without any trouble at all. Surely a two-bit home invader couldn't have been enough to defeat her. Which meant... what? 

She had taken down whoever had tried to attack her in her home and dragged them off for the Wood Wailers to deal with? That didn't seem outside the realm of possibility. It would even explain why she was running so late, having forgotten all about their meeting in all the excitement. Tataru nodded to herself. That had to be it. 

All they needed to do was go talk to the Wood Wailers and find her filling out a report of some kind. Aldreda would complain loudly about how much she hated paperwork, and then they could all be on their way. She cast a glance at her companions, their expressions still so very grave. Worry began to claw at Tataru's heart once more. 

"Where would she go after something like this if not to the Stones?" Hoary asked. 

"Maybe she went to Ishgard?" Tataru suggested. It was closer than Mor Dohna, although distance didn't matter overmuch since they had an aetheryte just outside the Stones. But Ishgard was a special place for the three of them. It was the first place she would think to try to escape to if Mor Dhona were no longer safe. Surely Aldreda would feel the same way.

"It's possible." Coultenet said, "Perhaps we should contact Count Edmont and Lord Aymeric and see if they've heard anything."

* * *

"Hey... Wake up."

Something poked at her roughly. She made a small noise of protest and curled in tighter on herself. Whoever was doing the poking would have none of that. A rough calloused hand grabbed her shoulder and shook.

"Come on, lass. What're you even doin' here?" the man huffed at her.

She began to come to herself slowly. First, she was aware of a damp earthy scent, and the soft soil beneath her. Her hand resting upon a thick vine. Slowly, she lifted her head and looked around. She was surrounded by strange vines and large fruit of some sort or another. There was the man, of course. A burly roegadyn with dark reddish skin and an irritated frown. Large and wearing sweat-stained slops that had been mended so often they were more patch than clothing. 

The sky was a pleasant blue, nary a cloud in sight. A gentle breeze carried with it the scents of the summer. She didn't recognize the place. Nor did she recognize the man who was glowering down at her. Something about the situation should have felt frightening, she was certain. For some reason she felt at ease in the strange field.

"Did I fall asleep?" she asked the man.

"Ye must've." the man sighed, looking her over. She looked down at herself as well, clad only in a long white shirt that was dirty and torn. Small patches of it were a darkened brown, as if they had been burned. Beneath the clothes she could feel a dull angry ache. As if a large bruise had taken up residence across her back. Had she been in a fight?

"What kind of lass takes a nap in another man's pumpkin patch anyway?" the man scolded her. She blinked.

"I suppose this kind of lass." 

"Who are you, anyhow?"

She opened her mouth to answer, and found that the answer would not come. She blinked slowly and tried again. Upon the second failure she simply shrugged and shook her head.

"Look, lass. I'm not gonna turn you over to the guard or nothin'." the man assured her, his frown softening, "I'm Gentle Wasp. What's your name?"

"I... don't know." she admitted, "I don't remember... how I got here. Or where here is..."

Her voice caught in her throat as the gravity of her situation caught up with her. Her chest tightened as tears began to well up in her eyes. The wide open sky above her was no longer comforting, but terrifying. It reminded her just how small and weak she was.

Not knowing who she was was troubling enough. Not knowing where she was or why was certainly less than ideal. But given her injuries, it wouldn't be too far off to think that perhaps she had been in some sort of danger. 

She might have been attacked. Perhaps lost her memories in the confusion somehow. If that were the case, she couldn't remember the faces of her attacker. That would leave her open to attack once more. The person who had attacked her could very well have been the kind seeming man before her. 

Although, if that were the case wouldn't it have been easier for him to kill her while she had slept? Her eyes darted around searching for help or witnesses. There was nothing but empty air and pumpkins as far as the eye could see. Without witnesses around, she decided that it was unlikely that he would hesitate to kill her, if that were indeed his intention. Unless blood was bad for his crops? And he was just trying to get her out of the patch so he could kill her without damaging his precious pumpkins?

Well, it seemed that particular ship had sailed, she noted looking down at the smeared blood on her arms and shirt. She studied herself, searching for the source of it. Eventually she found an alarmingly large splinter still jammed into her forearm. Judging by what little of it she could see, it seemed to be the length and width of her thumb, or perhaps a little smaller.

"Alright, lass. Let's not panic." Gentle Wasp said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. They were large enough that she was certain he wouldn't need to worry too much about bloodying his crops after all. They were so massive that he could snap her neck with less effort than she would expend doing the same to a twig. 

He flashed her a gentle smile, kindness behind his eyes. She couldn't be certain that he meant her no harm, but for the time being she had no choice but to trust him. 

"Come on. Let's get you inside. We can clean up that wound of yours, and ask the boss what we should do."

Gentle Wasp helped her to her feet, and lent her an arm to help her steady herself. Her bare feet felt unsteady in the soft dirt. Her legs trembled as if she had never used them before. She quietly allowed him to guide her to the cozy farmhouse on the hill, while Gentle Wasp explained the situation.

"Yer in Dalmasca. Well, I suppose only technically. We're pretty far out from civilization here." he said, "The only thing for malms and malms is a small village. It's about a quarter day's ride. I've been workin' these fields with the boss for two years now, and this is the first time I've found a stranger sleepin' in my pumpkins."

"I'm sorry." she said, uncertain how else to respond. Had she truly caused that much trouble? She hoped she hadn't done something to damage the pumpkins.

"Don' worry 'bout it." Gentle Wasp said, "I'm sure ye had good reason."

The walk was pleasant enough. It didn't take long for her to find her footing once more, and she was able to make the rest of the journey without Gentle Wasp's assistance. She kept her eyes on the ground, wary As they approached the house, her host stopped. He turned to her with a serious expression.

"There's somethin' you should know about the Boss." he started, "Boss used to be in the army, until he was wounded in a battle five years back. He lost his sight and retired to this 'ere farm."

"O-oh..." she wasn't sure how to respond.

"It's still sorta a sore subject for him, so don' bring it up, alright?"

"Alright."

Gentle Wasp nodded and opened the door. He motioned for her to enter ahead of him. The inside of the house was as cozy looking as the outside. Gentle sunlight filtered in through a window above a counter. Wooden floors were covered with soft colored rugs. A table had been set for two, and a large pot boiled on the stove, filling the kitchen with a wonderful scent that made her stomach ache with need. The walls had been painted a gentle cream color. She looked around curiously. 

"Hey boss!" Gentle Wasp boomed from behind her, "You'll never believe what I found in the pumpkin patch."

A tall man wandered into the room, cane in one hand while the other trailed along the wall. Large dark glasses covered his eyes. She saw hints of scar tissue poking out from behind the wide frames. A pale sphere in the center of his forehead marked him as Garlean.

"H-hello." she said, feeling suddenly very shy. She pulled her arms in tight, hands wringing nervously.

"Oh! A guest." the man said, "And you said you found her in the pumpkin patch?"

"Y-yes... I was sleeping there, although... I don't know why." she admitted.

"Why don't you take a seat miss...?" the man prompted gently. He waited expectantly for her to introduce herself. It felt bad to have to disappoint him.

"I... I'm sorry." she mumbled.

"The girl claims not to remember anythin' before waking up in our pumpkin patch." Gentle Wasp explained, giving he a gentle push towards the table. She nodded and took the seat after all.

"Is that so?" the man said, he moved towards the counter and began to busy himself there, "Well, you take your time and think about it, Miss. I'm sure it'll come to you. Until then, why don't we enjoy a nice pot of tea?"

"Oh... I wouldn't want to impose." she said. Surely somebody somewhere was missing her, although she wasn't certain where to start looking. Gentle Wasp had mentioned a village. Perhaps she was from the village? Oh, but Gentle Wasp had also said that he had lived in the area for two years. If she were from the village, than surely he would have recognized her?

"It's no imposition at all." the man assured her with a gentle smile, "We so rarely get company all the way out here."

"Oh... well, thank you." she said. She didn't know if she liked tea, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to find out. 

"Now, if you were sleeping out in the dirt all night, I'm sure you'll be needing a change of clothes as well. Why don't you go rummage through that spare room there and see if there's anything that fits. Before you track any more mud into my home."

"I... sorry." she all but whispered as she looked at the muddy footprints she had left behind, "I'll clean those up!"

"It's no trouble, miss. Spare room is down the hall and to the right."

She nodded and followed his instructions, heading to the spare room. It was a small room, with lace curtains and a well made bed. Something about the smell of it seemed sad. As if it hadn't been used in a long time. At the far end of the room was a wooden wardrobe. She walked over to open it, and found it full of clothes fit for a slightly taller man than she. She picked out a pair of plain hempen coveralls and a shirt and set to change quickly. 

On the far wall she caught sight of something that made her start. At first, it appeared as though some hairy mud monster was watching her, but upon further inspection she realized that it was simply a mirror. Her long auburn hair was tangled and caked with mud. 

She took a moment to wipe what she could off of her face and neck with her already dirty shirt before turning around to catch sight of the bruise she knew would be there. It was dark and angry and an ugly blue color. How had she gotten it? A fall? From what she had been able to tell of the surrounding area, it was fairly flat. From a building, perhaps?

If she had feared for her life, then she might have tried to escape from a second or even third floor window. A fall from such a height would no doubt leave a bruise. From there she must have hurried all the way to the pumpkin patch where she had fallen asleep. But why didn't she remember any of that? Why didn't she remember anything at all? Had she injured her head in the fall as well? It didn't seem impossible.

The only clue she had to go on was the village that Gentle Wasp had mentioned. Perhaps someone there would recognize her? Even if she weren't a villager, perhaps she had been a traveler of some kind? Passing through the village. Perhaps she had had companions. Perhaps they would be worried about her.

She pulled the shirt on quickly, and balled her old clothes up in her hands before heading back out to thank her hosts. As she approached she could hear them speaking.

"You sure about this, Boss?" Gentle Wasp asked.

"I'm not so feeble that an unarmed child could overpower me. Go after you've finished your work here." the man responded with a weary sigh. 

She paused in the doorway, uncertain about what to do. Would it really be alright to interrupt their conversation? It seemed to have been a serious one.

"Ah!" the man made the decision for her, "I see you've finished dressing."

"Ye... um... yes. Thank you for lending these to me." she replied.

"Now, why don't you put your old clothes over there?" he gestured to a small basket in the corner with his cane. It seemed to be full of old clothes as well, "We'll get those washed just as soon as we finish breakfast."

"After I've finished tendin' to the fields, I'm gonna head into town an see if anyone knows anythin' about ye." Gentle Wasp said.

"Oh! Would... um... Would it..." she stumbled over her thought, chewing her lip as she worked to articulate what she wanted to ask, "I mean... could I... help?"

"Out in the fields?" Gentle Wasp laughed, "I doubt yer cut out for field work, lass."

"Perhaps, but- um- it's the least I could- uh- do after all of this." 

"I don't see any problem with it." the boss said, flashing her a kind smile, "Just be sure to listen to Gentle Wasp and not get underfoot."

"Yes!" she chirped. Something told her that she would be good at following directions at the very least.

"But first, come, sit." the man said as he rummaged through a cabinet. Finally he seemed to find what he had been searching for, a small basket with a strange looking bottle. He held it out for his farmhand to take, "Wasp here tells me that you're hurt. He'll see to your hurts while I finish preparing breakfast."

"Ah... thank you." she said, taking her seat. Her gaze dropped to her knees, "Sorry to put you through so much trouble."

"It's no trouble at all." Gentle Wasp assured her, gesturing for her to give him her wounded arm. She sheepishly held it out, uncertainty and a strange uncomfortable sense of guilt boiling away in the pit of her stomach. They said that, and yet here she was, disrupting their morning, and even making them go out into town to search for any clues as to who she might be. 

Well, surely somebody would know her. Or at least know who she might belong to. Then she would be on her way and not have to trouble these kind people any more than she already had. Maybe she would even have some sort of money she could give them for their services. 

She hissed softly as Gentle Wasp began to pull the splinter free. He soothed her softly, "I know. I know. Just bear with it for now."

Gritting her teeth, she shut her eyes tightly and turned away from the work. The scent of her own blood only seemed to be sharpened by her refusal to look. 

"Now, this is gonna sting." Gentle Wasp informed her, pouring what could only be acid into her wound. She felt her free hand clench into a fist as she waited for the pain to fade. With surprisingly sure fingers, Gentle Wasp wrapped her arm tightly with a clean bandage. 

"There." he announced once his torture was complete, "I'd say all better, but that's a pretty nasty cut you got there. When I'm in town I'll pop by the apothecary and pick up some healing potions."

"Oh... you don't have to." 

"Look, Pumpkin, if you say that every time I tell you I'm going to do something it's gonna be a long day."

"Pumpkin?" the girl asked, finally opening her eyes to fix him with her puzzled frown.

"Well, what else am I supposed to call ye?" Gentle Wasp laughed, "Found ye in the pumpkin patch, that makes ye a pumpkin!"

"Ah...Pumpkin." she tried the name out. It wasn't ideal. Certainly not her name, she could feel that in her bones, but it would do for now. "Alright. I'm Pumpkin! It's nice to meet you Gentle Wasp!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of on a roll with updating things today. I've got this fic more or less planned out and it should be much shorter than my other behemoth, but I'm a little more nervous about writing this one. I hope I'm doing a good job.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. So, I was playing through the RDM questline for the first time, and had an idea for this fic. I'm sure you're all tired of hearing this by now, but this chapter was actually going to be a fair bit longer. I have most of the rest of it written, but I ended up coming up against my self-imposed deadline and had to cut it to just the one scene.


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